Tales from the Self Employed
I catch the scent of meadowsweet and dry summer grasses mingled with Malibu sunscreen on the breeze as I hurtle down the hill at breakneck speed at Corrymeela. It’s flat calm, the Island looks so close I feel I could swim across the glassy turquoise waters onto the shore at Church bay, it’s a perfect morning.
I’ve cycled from home to meet my sister in law for a swim, then cycle back home, take the kids to pick Bilberries/Fraughans in the wood (it’s Bilberry Sunday) then make some food and cake for a group of friends coming in the afternoon, it sounds a bit staged in its loveliness. However, this is not a normal day, it would be a great one to show off on social media but it’s not always like this, other days can be full of laziness or stress or frustration. Also it wouldn’t necessarily show all the details like the crystal glass I smashed, the head bump on the bouncy castle or the forgotten ice cream.
I listened recently to the Food Programme talking about the rise of hype bakeries, visiting the incredible Quince and Lannan which both opened last year. Leyla Kazim mentioned how people were drawn to the perceived life of the baker, there’s romance in it, a desire to be part of it. Whilst I wholeheartedly agree to an extent I think it’s vitally important once in a while to flip open the reality box to let everyone see that this particular living the dream can often look like a total shit show.
I look back on my Substack posts and see I come back to this theme quite regularly. It is hugely important to me to address the fact that whilst one of the main reasons we took the direction we did 11 years ago was to have flexibility and to create a lifestyle business that suited us, it’s not always reality and the weighing scale of work and life wobble. Some weeks it can feel relatively calm then throw in unexpected changes in staff or broken equipment and things get less romantic. Sometimes people say, ‘How do you do it all?’ and I think, ‘I’m not’ and if I’m grumpy, Dara will quote Roosevelt, ‘comparison is the thief of joy.’
Tales of the Self employed this week
We’d been waiting for weeks for the tooth to fall out, wobbly but stubborn it hung on and then, with the suggestion to eat an apple, it dropped out, leaving behind a funny gap and a very happy, excited child full of the magical anticipation of a fairy visiting in the night. Off they all went to bed, I set the coin out on the kitchen table to remind myself to sneak up the stairs to hide it carefully under the pillow. Later, before going to sleep, I read my emails and had to quickly check a message online from HMRC (The UK tax authority), I was worried it was an unpaid bill and the panic distracted me. In the morning I heard slow footsteps coming down the stairs and middle child appeared in the kitchen, head down, forlorn. The tooth fairy hadn’t come.
We had a fourth birthday celebration, hard to believe the littlest is now through the toddler years. I wrangle with mixing the pancake batter and making a cake simultaneously. A few burnt pancakes later we all sit together making our plan for the day; park, beach or woods? Whilst they head off to feign getting dressed I check the messages on socials. Feedback from a customer who didn’t like something they bought in the bakery, not their thing apparently. I reply quickly but spend the next few hours agitated and upset, short with the children. The park feels like it’s been a bit of a disaster.
Finally we have an evening altogether, it seems like ages since the bumpy road has smoothed out to normality. I get home a little later than planned and as soon as I’m through the door we tag team and Dara heads back down to work to try and fix the coffee machine, hours pass and we have dinner without him. I save up my news in bullet points and relay them in a quick chat, sometimes it seems we’ve barely spoken.
The next morning I miss a call from an unknown number, when I check the voicemail it’s from Department of Finance; The Statistics and Research Agency reminding me that my survey is late and to please make it a priority. My levels of frazzled fizz.
I read about the family who live nomadically in a converted horsebox and I think for five minutes we could do it too. I remember my passion, I have ways to deal with tough days and can laugh about it, I savour time off, I know there are holidays coming. I know the moments to revel in and ones to try and forget. The boundaries should be more like protective walls. There is no easy balance, we muddle along on this wee adventure and we love it. All the while planning for more madness and busy times because we love all of you too!
Brave, honest words- Life, it is what it is - but keep going because you too are doing something very unique and special in Ballycastle
Had to fill in the survey...you just know they are asking a million questions so they can hike up the rates!